The Boy Who Thinks I'm Pregnant

Chapter 9

Chapter 9

   “This is your entire fault,” I whispered furiously at Adrian. We were sitting a humid detention room after school with ten other pissed off students and, unfortunately for us, the strictest supervisor in the school, Mr. Graham.

   “How is this my fault?” he replied in the same hushed tone.

   “We wouldn’t be in this situation if it wasn’t for you!”

   "What? If this is anyone's fault then it's entirely yours."

   I glared at Adrian. "Nonsense."

   “If my memory serves me right, then I clearly remember you saying ‘I’m sorry that you got detention too. It was mostly my fault.’ Am I wrong?” Adrian was right but I wasn’t going to tell him that. “And you got a detention for being late! That’s your own fault, not mine!”

   “This is still your fault!” was my genius response.

   “You're insane. That makes no sense!” Adrian snapped back, no longer whispering.

   “Shh! You’re going to get us into trouble with your loud voice, you idiot.”

   Mr. Graham stood up from his seat and began walking over towards our table. I glared angrily at Adrian before picking up a pen, pretending to complete my homework while Adrian pretended to read Macbeth. Mr. Graham stopped right in front of us and I braced myself for the worst. He picked up my copy of Macbeth on the pile of books that I had next to me. He flipped through the pages of the book and placed the book on his chest as if he were hugging it.

   “This is my favourite Shakespearean play.”

   I exchanged a look with Adrian who was just as confused as I was. “Umm, mine too, Mr. Graham?” I spoke timidly, making it sound like a question instead. The teacher placed the book back down onto the pile and I could have sworn that I saw the corner of his lips twitch, forming the slightest smile. Who knew the strictest teacher had a soft spot for Shakespearean tragedies? Luckily for us, Mr. Graham walked back to his desk and we let out a sigh of relief.

   “I thought he was going to yell at us for talking,” I admitted when Mr. Graham was out of hearing range.

   “Yeah same here. That was really weird."

   "It's your fault we're here in the first place," I said stubbornly.

   "Oh no, not this again–“ Before Adrian could finish his sentence, he was interrupted by Mr. Graham’s loud, booming voice.

   “Silence, class. The next person to say another word will clean the toilets every day after school for the next month and since school ends in less than two weeks, that means you’ll be spending your holidays here,” he declared sternly while looking directly at Adrian. Now there was the harsh teacher that we all feared.

   The bell rang forty five minutes later, signalling the end of detention. Quickly and eagerly, I packed up my books into my bad and practically ran out of the room.

   “Thank the Lord that’s over,” Adrian exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air dramatically.

   “Did you even get any work done?” I asked as we began walking towards the car park. I managed to sloppily finish my Physics homework even though I was certain that more than half of the answers were incorrect.

   “Nope, I was playing Solitaire on my phone the entire time.”

   “I know, ha ha. I saw you and I have no idea how you managed to do that without Mr. Graham catching you.”